The Patient Man (Part 2)

Paul couldn’t help but admire the view as he approached her. The way she was spread open for him was so inviting, and in many ways, quite distracting. It would be easy to just relent, and admit defeat, just to be inside of her. But, he could be just as stubborn as she was intent on being, besides…it wasn’t a part of the plan.

Stay focused, he thought to himself, this is going to be a long, fun night.

As he stepped up to her, he ran his fingers lightly over her exposed ass cheeks. He smiled, tracing the red welts gently with his fingertips, and watched the fire get brighter in her eyes. Their time had started much earlier in the evening, even before they had entered the room at all. In fact, her being in the swing was the second part of the night.

While they were becoming more comfortable being in each other’s presence, up until that evening, there had been no impact play at all. Not that he hadn’t wanted there to be any, they just took their time building up to that moment. Their days had been spent getting to know one another, and take in the local sights, while their nights had been spent getting to know one another on a more intimate level.

Then, what had started as heavy petting during an early evening quickie, escalated to another level entirely when he had smacked her bare ass playfully. That one smack had flipped a switch in them both, igniting their desire for much more. He could still see the look in her eyes after that first smack, and how she arched her back, raising her backside up for more.

He had been more than willing to oblige too, bringing his hand down on the other cheek tentatively testing the water. The look she threw him had said volumes, more than anything she could have said verbally. More, harder, the fiery look read as she wiggled her ass seductively, and that was all he needed to know.

Soon after, Paul was beating a steady tattoo on her round cheeks, watching them turn red as her yelps of pain turned to moans of pleasure. He loved the feel of her flesh beneath the palm of his hand, and the resulting sting from each hard smack. The smell of her arousal permeated the room as moisture began forming on her folds.

Pausing, he slipped his long fingers between her folds, and sheathed them in her velvet embrace with a single thrust. The urge to take her right then had been overwhelming to say the least, especially when he felt her clasp hard around his fingers. However, she must have seen the glint in his eyes when she looked over her shoulder at him.

“The room,” was all she said, and they both knew what that meant.

Now, here she was, bound and spread on the swing she had lovingly caressed just a couple days prior when she was shown the room for the first time. They had discussed this room many times over the past several months as he was getting it setup. Their safe word was long established. It was to be their escape, where reality was put on hold and left at the door, even if only for the time they were immersed in one another.

“Are you ready?” Paul asked her, running his fingers along her inner thigh.

(To be continued)

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© AC Elliott, 14-Aug-18

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The Patient Man (Part 1)

Paul had been waiting for this moment for quite some time. The moment that seemed to never come, when he would be able to spend some quality time with her. They had talked about it for months on end, even planned it several times, but nothing ever came to fruition. Life kept getting in the way, and the miles between them seemed to stretch into an eternity.

Now, there they were, in the spare room of his old farmhouse. One that he had specially designed for an occasion such as this. It had been sitting empty, waiting for her to arrive. He had everything meticulously in place, ready and waiting.

Truth be told, they hadn’t immediately rushed into the room when she first arrived. Although that would have been interesting and fun, they didn’t make use of the room until the third day of her stay with him. The first couple of days were spent enjoying each other’s company and building up to this moment. After all, there was no reason to rush things.

“There’s a time for everything,” he said to himself, viewing her from across the room.

There she was, sitting in the swing, with her legs spread wide, bared and open to his viewing. He had tied her hands behind her back, leaving her swinging in the middle of the room while he opened a chest kept at the end of the bed. From within the chest, he began pulling a variety of implements and toys, until he found the ones he was looking for.

Satisfied, he crossed back over to where she was bound. There was a defiant look in her eyes, and he liked that. She had said that she wouldn’t beg, and he knew that she meant it. Yet, he wondered, who would break first? Would she relent and beg, or would he give in to his own base desires? Only time would tell, and he was a patient man.

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© AC Elliott, 13-Aug-18

Dress For Me, Angel (Part Three)

We pulled into the vineyards with only a moment to spare, and taking her by the arm, I led her to the entrance. I have to say, she looked radiant in her dress, and 3-inch black heels. The way her long hair fell around her shoulders, with her painted red lips, drove me wild. Around her neck, she wore the strand of pearls that I asked her to wear. Between them and the earrings, she looked very retro, and classy. It was a perfect fit for the night’s events. In short, she looked like the angel I knew her to be, and I felt like a king with his queen on his arm.

“What is this place?” she asked, as I reached for the large wooden door.

“This is Chateau Morrisette,” I told her, opening the door for her, and placing my hand on the small of her back, guiding her inside.

There was an old school charm about the place, with the hard stone floors and exposed wood beams. It was one of my favorite places to go while in the mountains. Their chili rubbed steak was to die for, and while I don’t care much for wine, I usually enjoyed theirs. What made tonight so special, was the fact that it was the last night of “Jazz in the Vineyards.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked her, sliding my hand down to nonchalantly caress her backside.

“Stuffed,” she said, and I laughed at the playfulness in her voice. “And, we haven’t even eaten yet.”

As we walked up to the hostess, I flipped the switch on the remote, causing her egg to vibrate lightly. Her grip on my arm grew tighter in mild surprise. I knew it wasn’t as intense as it could be, but, I liked having the element of surprise literally in the palm of my hand.

“You’re so bad,” she whispered.

“I know,” I replied, and then directed my attention to the hostess.

She led us outdoors to where the band was playing a mix of old school and newer jazz pieces. The whole outside of the vineyard restaurant was lit up with little lights strung from the trees. Throughout the courtyard were tables, complete with the white table cloths and candles. The ambiance was absolutely spot on.

Throughout supper, I continued to play with her egg, turning it on and off. The most arousing part was watching her talk with the waiter, with him being none the wiser. I was impressed with her ability to keep herself under control. Especially since, each time I turned it on, I allowed either the intensity to build or I allowed it to last longer, bringing her to the point of orgasm only to stop. She was literally being kept on the edge, and the fire in her eyes when she looked at me, only made it that much more enjoyable.

Finally, supper was over with. The wine was perfect, the food was delicious, and it was time to dance. Taking her hand, I led her out to the dance floor, where we swayed in time to the jazz music being played by the band.

“Enjoying yourself, Angel,” I asked her, holding her closer as the band slipped into a slow number.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied. “It really is beautiful, and I can tell you were enjoying yourself too.”

“Oh, my love, you have no idea,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m the luckiest man here. No one else has an Angel in their arms.”

As we continued to sway to the music, I flipped the switch on the remote in my hand. Placing my hand back against the small of her back, I pulled her even closer, tighter against me. Slowly, but, surely I increased the vibrations on the egg until it was a third of the way to the highest setting. Her grip arm and shoulder growing even tighter as waves of pleasure vibrated throughout her body.

“Shhh,” I said, pressing my lips against her ear, when she began to whimper slightly.

“Oh, God, it feels like even my plug is vibrating. Let me cum, please, Sir,” she half begged, half growled in a faint voice. “Let me cum for you right here, I need it so badly.”

“Ok, Angel,” I said, pushing her head into my shoulder, giving her a place to muffle her cry.

Flipping the remote to the highest setting possible, I felt her tense up in my arms. Her teeth biting down on my chest, fingers digging into my body, as the intense orgasm that had building up all night overwhelmed her. She was like a ragdoll in my arms, melting into me as her tears of pleasure stained my shirt.

I’m not sure how long it had lasted, but, I know it was the remainder of the slow song. Because when it shifted into a more upbeat tempo, she and I were the only ones still slow dancing. But, I didn’t care, let them think what they wanted. I had an angel in my arms that was completely letting go of herself for me. So vulnerable and so beautiful.

Lifting her head from my chest, she kissed me with the kind of passion only dreamed about. “Thank you,” she said, breaking our kiss. “Umm…can you please turn it off now, Sir? I do need to walk back to the table, or home…home would be much better…”

“Home it is then…” I said, with a small laugh.

(To be continued)
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© AC Elliott, 18-Sept-17